the casts of the beehive undersides of chairs is beautiful and some how evocative of my childhood – translucent colours of exotic soaps or perspex skateboard decks and wheels full of trapped light – desperate to touch them but the non-touching is a type of touching.

But once in I spent very little time in front of each piece. I marvelled at the craftpersonship of the casts of course and at the technical audacity and ambition. I think the sheer density of the effect of the holocaust memorial is overwhelming. The demolished house cast joyous, magnificent and tender.

But mattresses and hot water bottles whilst fun are less demanding of my time and i find myself outside after 10 minutes thinking that she needed to diversify somehow.

The idea of flipping void and solid, representing space as object